


World Spins Madly On

by bannanachan



Series: A love with no sting [3]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Gen, Grief/Mourning, Post-Endgame
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-01
Packaged: 2020-02-10 18:46:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18666220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bannanachan/pseuds/bannanachan
Summary: Futaba wasn’t Ryuji or Akira, and she wasn't going to let this go so easily, because she could see what they couldn’t. Which was that most international students whose families didn’t make family weekend weren’t orphans, like Yusuke was. Like she was.





	World Spins Madly On

Yusuke being at college in America was going fine, honestly. Futaba had had some doubts, initially. About whether it was really such a good idea for him to to move, alone, to an entirely different country where he didn’t know anyone. About whether or not his relationship with her recently-legally-official brother could survive being really, really long-distance. About whether or not anybody at the fancy-sounding school in Rhode Island could possibly appreciate Yusuke like the Phantom Thieves did.

But so far, it was working out fine. He was happy, and the school was happy to have him. Akira wasn’t happy, necessarily, but he was happy for him, and they were doing okay. They chatted every day, and they got on the phone at least once a week. Sometimes just the two of them, sometimes other Phantom Thieves too. Sometimes it was even everyone at once, Ann and Ryuji and Morgana and Makoto and Haru and Akira and her all piled into the frame with Sojiro patiently holding the phone just-right so they could fit. One-on-one conversation was hard to come by when there were thousands of miles and several time-zones in the way.

This was how Futaba found out about family weekend. Ryuji was over when Yusuke called Akira, so he ended up on the phone too, so she ended up on the phone too, because why not? Which ended up being for the best, because if she hadn’t been, they never would have known about it. Yusuke only mentioned it in passing, and Akira and Ryuji seemed like they were going to let it go unnoticed when she interrupted.

“What’s family weekend?”

Yusuke looked confused. “What? Oh, that. It’s nothing, really - they just invite the students’ families to visit about halfway through the fall semester. It’s mostly for the freshmen and their parents, I think, since they’re not used to being apart for very long.”

Ryuji raised his eyebrows. “Yusuke, you’re a freshman.”

Akira, processing this information, suddenly looked concerned. “Do you want me or boss to come?”

“What? No! You were both just here for orientation. And anyway, most international students don’t have anyone come. Even the other American students don’t usually have family come, unless they’re from the area. I’ll be fine.”

Akira still looked uneasy. “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am, don’t be absurd. I can’t expect any of you to uproot your plans and your finances just so you can see me every few months. I wouldn’t have come to America if I wasn’t prepared for this sort of thing.”

Futaba looked urgently at Akira, who looked back at her with an equally intense expression. “Just promise me you’ll be okay.” He said to the phone.

Yusuke’s baffled expression softened, and he smiled gently the way that he did when he was being particularly thoughtful. “I promise. Really, darling, it’s nothing important. They’re just showing off the campus so they can try to get more donations. I’ll be too busy in the studio to even notice it’s happening, more than likely.”

Akira nodded, looking satisfied, and transitioned the conversation back to where it had been before Futaba’s interruption with characteristic smoothness. Futaba remained quiet for the rest of the conversation, thinking. She didn’t think he was lying, about it being more about money than anything else, about how international students never got visitors anyway. But she wasn’t Ryuji or Akira, and she wasn't going to let this go so easily, because she could see what they couldn’t. Which was that most international students whose families didn’t make family weekend weren’t orphans, like Yusuke was.

Like she was.

Akira didn’t have the money to fly to America out of the blue. Sojiro did, and he would have paid for him to go, but he wasn’t going to ask. Which she understood. She was reluctant to do so herself. Luckily, Sojiro wasn’t the only one with some money to throw around.

She told Sojiro only after she had already secured the airfare. This made the ensuing argument much quicker, if not more pleasant. She could miss a couple days of school; she was leagues ahead of the other kids in her grade anyway and the teachers knew it, so they didn’t even care. Nor did Sojiro, to his credit. What he wasn’t so sure about was her travelling halfway across the globe completely alone. She tried to be understanding; it was a normal parent thing to worry about. But she didn’t back down, and eventually, he agreed.

She didn’t have to get Yusuke or Akira to agree, because she didn’t tell them. Yusuke would have tried to argue her out of it, and Akira might have successfully argued her out of it. It would just have to be a surprise.

The first flight was about twelve hours. She made it through ten of them before she panicked.

The idiotic part was, it wasn’t even about being around so many people. She’d gotten through the airport, security, customs, the boarding process, she’d gotten through over a year of school now and it been fine. But ten hours into the flight, she realized that she’d been stuck there for ten hours, that she had two more to go before they landed and three more on the plane after this. Alone in this crowded, messy, tiny chamber, and they’d turned out the lights because it was overnight and it was dark and she tried and she tried not to think about it but trying not to think about it was just another form of thinking about it and she knew, with perfect certainty, that she was going to die here.

She opened up her texts, and then remembered she was in the middle of the air, and opened up her messenger.

_Futaba: i think im having a panic attack_  
_Akira: Do you want me to call you?_  
_Futaba: that would probably not help_  
_Futaba: kinda on an airplane_

A second passed. She tried to breathe, and couldn’t tell if it was working.

_Akira: Okay. Has anyone noticed?_  
_Futaba: no i dont think so_  
_Futaba: im in the aisle and the middle persons asleep_  
_Futaba: im trying not to make any noise but i dont know if its working im shaking_  
_Akira: Is the seatbelt sign on?_  
_Futaba: no_  
_Akira: Go to the bathroom. Take your phone._

She tried to stand up but was yanked back into place by her seatbelt. Fighting back tears, she released it and stood, rushing down the aisle to the back of the plane, trying not to make contact with any of the dozen pairs of eyes watching her go. She choked out a sob as soon as the door was shut, sinking to the floor of the tiny cubicle, sandwiched between plastic walls.

_Futaba: i made it_  
_Futaba: i dunno if i can stay here for long i think the flight attendants are gonna come_  
_Akira: Don’t worry about that right now. Try to breathe._  
_Akira: I love you._  
_Futaba: i love you too_

She didn’t know how long she stayed there, choking out the occasional sob, glued to her phone, to the image of her brother’s words. The flight attendants didn’t come. Akira talked to her about other things, and reminded her to breathe every few seconds. Eventually, her heartbeat slowed. Eventually, he didn’t have to remind her she was breathing for her to notice. Eventually, she got back to her seat, and plugged in her phone, and stayed on the chat with Akira for another twenty minutes before she fell asleep.

Eventually, the plane landed.

She felt numb as she went through the de-boarding process, heading back up the aisle and to her connection mechanically. She must have slept through the second flight entirely, because she didn’t remember it afterwards. It was late afternoon when she landed in Rhode Island, and she watched dully as the buildings approached, wondering which one Yusuke was in.

The answer, as it turned out, was the airport. She saw him before he saw her, sitting uncomfortably on a bench just past the exit to security. He stood up as soon as he made eye contact with her and took three gigantic strides to envelope her in possibly the tightest hug she’d ever had. He didn’t let go for at least ten seconds, keeping both his hands firm on her shoulders as he extended her to arm’s length.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded “Better now.”

He hugged her again, shorter this time, and she managed to reach her arms up around his shoulders and hug him back. It was nice.

His concerned expression was tinged with frustration when he let go, sliding his right hand down to hold hers, grip still firm. “Please don’t ever do that again. Okay?”

She laughed. “Wasn’t planning on it. Did Akira tell you I was coming?”

He nodded.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t surprise you.”

“Oh, don’t worry. You certainly surprised me.”

He only let go of her hand long enough to shoulder her backpack as they made their way out of the airport and out to the curb, where he led her to a train that wasn’t too different from the Tokyo ones except for being mostly above the ground. He didn’t try to engage her in conversation for long before he realized that she was too exhausted to reciprocate and took out his phone. They traveled in silence through the city, and she stared out the window at buildings much smaller than she had imagined in her head. He signaled for them to disboard at one of these that looked larger and more modern than those surrounding it. It took her a second to recognize it was a hotel. A rather nice one, judging by the lobby they walked into.

She was confused. “I booked a hotel, Yusuke, I don’t -”

“I did nothing. Your father took care of this as soon as Akira told him what happened. It’s already been paid for, so there’s no reason not to take advantage of it.” He paused, looking slightly anxious. “He wanted me to stay with you for the night. I brought my things to the room already, but I told him I wouldn’t stay unless it was okay with you. Is it okay with you?”

She closed her eyes, remembering being alone in the airplane’s bathroom, surrounded by walls that felt like they were closing in. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”

He didn’t let go of her hand until the hotel room door was shut behind him. She peeked into the bathroom right away, whistling at the size of the tub. She raced back to the main room and threw herself onto the bed, which conformed almost instantly to the backs of her arms. The sheets felt like they might have been made of silk.

“Holy, crap, Dad.” She muttered, mostly to herself.

Yusuke laughed, and she turned to watch him as he made his way over to the bed nearest the window, where she noticed a backpack already resting on the pillows. “I’d say he’s full of surprises, but at this point, I think he’s becoming rather predictable. Unlike you.”

She scooched up on the bed, bringing her knees to her chest. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be. I’m always happy to see you, Futaba, I just - I must admit, I’m struggling to understand why you did this, let alone why all the subterfuge.”

She curled up a little tighter into herself, eyes darting to her toes to avoid his gaze. “Family weekend.”

“What?”

She looked up. “You said this weekend was family weekend. And I knew you were gonna argue if I told you I wanted to come, so I decided I’d just come anyway. And I didn’t think I was gonna have a damn panic attack on the plane because I would’ve obviously told you if I was worried about that, and I know you said you didn’t care if anyone was here but I cared. I care. And I’m your family, so I’m here.”

Yusuke gasped. It took Futaba longer than it should’ve for her to recognize he was crying.

“Yusuke?”

He choked out another sob, speaking in nearly a whisper. “Madarame died.”

Futaba froze. She lowered her knees, throwing her legs over the side of the bed and crossing to where he sat to kneel down beside him. He reached up to wipe tears from his face, and she tried to figure out where her arms should go for several seconds before giving in and wrapping him in a hug. He collapsed into it, and she felt his weight fall into her shoulder.

She waited until his crying had died down a bit before speaking. “When?”

“A couple of days ago. Well, before that, but - I found out about it a couple days ago.”

Slowly, she let go of his back, her hands migrating along his arms to hold him just far enough away that he could see her. “Yusuke, I’m so sorry.”

Through still-falling tears, he laughed. “For what? For my loss? As it happens, I’m not sure that’s an accurate characterization. I only know about it because his lawyers called me when they were apportioning the will. It turns out he left me quite a bit of money. I’m not paying tuition ever again, if that gives you some idea. It’s a guess, but I get the feeling he’d have left it to me sooner if he’d been able to.”

She didn't know what to say. She felt blindsided, sitting there sleep-deprived and holding him in a foreign hotel room. “I’m sorry anyway.”

“I know. I was going to tell you - I was going to tell Akira, but every time I thought about it, I broke down before I could go through with it. It’s - you’re going to think it’s idiotic, but I was so worried about what he’d say. Am worried. He hated him for what he did to me, he still does. I don’t know if he’s going to understand why I’m so upset. I don’t understand why I’m so upset, I feel - stupid. I left him, I left all of it. I was angry and I got better and he got better and I tried to forgive him and now he’s dead, and all I can think about is that I wish I had been there. I wish I could’ve said goodbye. They didn’t even call me until after the funeral.”

He was crying hard again by the time he finished, shoulders hitching with the sobs, and she reached her hands up to his neck, nesting her fingers in his hair. She lost track of how much time they spent sitting like that before his breathing evened out. He pulled away from her and she let him, staying sitting where she was as he fell back on the pillows and stared up at the ceiling.

She stared at the painting above the beds, gathering as much focus as she could before turning her eyes back to her friend. “That’s awful, Yusuke. They should have called you. I’m so, so sorry.”

He shrugged, the motion barely noticeable in his horizontal state. “Yes. They should have. He probably told them not to. He knows - knew - what I’m doing. He probably didn’t want to disrupt my studies. But he should have thought about that before leaving me half his estate. And they should have called me anyway. Maybe I’ll tell them that. When I can do anything again.”

She fidgeted where she sat, searching for the right words. “You picked me up.”

“I did.” He shuffled, propping himself up on his elbows to get a better look at her face. “I’m glad you’re here, Futaba. I’m sorry it was so hard to get here, but - I’m really, really glad you’re here.”

She laid down next to him on the bed, and he lowered himself back down so that he could lace his fingers through his. “I’m glad I’m here too.”

Minutes passed with both of them staring at the ceiling. She realized she had fallen asleep only when she realized she had woken up in the other bed, and realized simultaneously that Yusuke must have carried her there. She took a minute to change into her pajamas and close the curtains before she returned to tuck herself under the sheets beside him, and then slept for the next twelve hours.

***

When Futaba woke up on the first day of family weekend, the room smelled like breakfast. It took her a bewildering, terrifying second to remember why she wasn’t in her bedroom in Tokyo. It took her another second to track down the source of the breakfast smell. There were two disposable coffee cups, one for a hot drink and one which contained an icy mix topped with whipped cream which was topped with chocolate and caramel syrups, and a box that looked like it must contain donuts sitting on the desk in one corner of the room. There was also no sign of Yusuke.

She crawled out of bed and shuffled over to the desk, where she opened the box. Donuts, sure enough. She took a sip from the cold coffee drink and a bite from a donut covered in bright pink frosting and felt slightly more herself.

There was a beep at the door and she turned to see Yusuke enter, wearing a hotel robe over his sweatpants. He looked surprised to see her, shutting the door behind himself and slipping his cell phone into the robe pocket. “You’re awake.”

She sipped her latte. “Mostly. You know I usually drink black coffee, right? Like, you’ve met my dad.”

“Obviously, I was just on the phone with him. I also know that I’ve never seen you order black coffee on purpose anywhere outside Yongen-Jaya. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell.”

She laughed, but the mention of Sojiro had made her nervous. “Is he. Um.”

“Angry at you? No, he’s not. He’s just worried. I told him you seemed fine, but I don’t know how much I managed to assuage his concern. He’d probably like to hear your voice, but he and Akira are about to go to sleep. We can call them again tonight. He also called the front desk, so we can stay here another night if you like.”

Futaba felt the knot in her stomach loosen slightly. “I’ll think about it.” She grabbed her phone from her pocket and realized it was out of charge. Scrambling through her bag, she emerged victorious with the charger and plugged it in on the counter next to the donuts. “Did you talk to Akira, too?”

“Naturally.” He paused. “ _He_ might be a little bit mad at you, though.”

She scoffed, settling into the massive rolling chair placed beside the desk. “Yeah, okay. I might deserve that slightly. But I also meant… about Madarame.”

“Ah.” He walked over to the desk and retrieved the other coffee cup, taking a long sip. “No, I didn’t. Not yet. I plan to - I promise, but I need a minute. You were the first person I’ve told at all, besides my teachers. I don’t really feel up for it yet, and - I need to figure out how to say it.”

She nodded. “Okay. I get that. But tell him soon, okay? The longer you wait, the more upset he’s gonna be with himself.”

“I know. I will. But forget about that for now. Are you feeling better this morning?”

She thought about this, spinning around slowly in her chair while chewing a bite of donut. She stopped after one rotation, planting both feet on the ground to face Yusuke directly. “Honestly? I’d love to get out of this hotel room.”

She took a shower while he finished breakfast and made arrangements to stay another night at the front desk. She stayed under the hot water for an hour, running her fingers through her long hair and letting the hotel soap wash the airplane smell away with aggressively lemongrass bubbles. By the time she was out, he’d already dressed, packed a backpack, and printed out a list of the schedule of events for family weekend.

She skimmed the list, glancing over top of it to lock eyes with him. “You sure you want me to come? You don’t wanna just… skip it?”

He swallows, but nods. “If you still want to come. We can sight-see as well, but I’d like my classmates to meet you. You are family, after all.”

She smiled, feeling equal parts affectionate and vindicated. “Okay. Let’s go.”

The events didn’t start till the afternoon, so they started by going to the zoo. Yusuke had suggested an art museum that he said had something to do with the American military, but she pointed out that they were going to his art school that afternoon so she could see plenty of art when she got there, and she definitely couldn’t see giraffes at his school, could she, so they should make the most of the next 24 hours. So the zoo it was. A lot of the animals were the same kinds as the Ueno zoo had, but some of them were different - the Ueno zoo didn’t have a kangaroo, or a camel, or a tiny baby monkey that she spent like ten minutes watching. Or a kookaburra, or a peacock, and it had pandas but not red pandas which were kind of better than pandas, actually. Or bugs. She’d never gotten to hold a tarantula at the Ueno zoo.

And the Ueno zoo definitely didn’t have any rides. Yusuke tried to beg off of riding the carousel, looking self-consciously at the crowds of children lined up. Futaba insisted that it was only weird if only one of them did it, so he had to go. And besides, as long as they spoke in Japanese, everyone thought he was a tourist too anyway.

By the time they left the zoo, she was starving. Yusuke’s campus was downtown, so he said they could eat around there. What she didn’t quite understand until she got there was that he’d said it was downtown because - it kind of was the downtown. Like, not exclusively, there were some other colleges there too, but all the buildings were spread out and they were mixed in with libraries and churches and restaurants and houses that were actually museums and also houses that looked like museums but people actually lived in them. Most of the buildings looked old, but some of them looked brand new. Which was kind of like Tokyo, actually.

And, out on the street: people. Tourists, students, office workers, government workers. Less people than she was used to seeing in Tokyo, but - still. People. And she had had a panic attack, yesterday. So maybe that was a little overwhelming.

He must have noticed her looking a little green because he spirited her inside the nearest restaurant without a word. She stood near the entrance feeling a little dazed as Yusuke talked to the server in English and they were led to their seats. Before she could do much more than glance at the menu, Yusuke had already finished ordering for the both of them.

Yusuke must have noticed how surprised she looked. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to - I can call the waitress back, but I wanted to make sure you got something as quickly as possible.”

She shook her head. “No, I don’t - I mean, you can order for me, it’s fine. I just - don’t think I’ve ever seen you look that confident about food before.”

Immediately, he blushed a shade of red so intense that she almost regretted the question. “You probably haven’t. I’ve adapted to America, I suppose. Although to be honest, it was more of an adulthood trial-by-fire. It’s not the job of anyone here to make sure I’m eating, so - I suppose I realized I’d have to do it myself.” Her anger must have showed on her face, because he backpedalled immediately. “Not that no one here cares. Certainly, my RA would have noticed if I started skipping meals, but I didn’t want it to get that far.”

“So what, you only started eating enough because you didn’t want to get caught? I’m not sure that’s great.”

He shook his head. “It’s not like that. I wanted to do it, I wanted to… not need help. I know that it’s there if I need it and I’m not ashamed to ask, but I’m living on my own here and I wanted - I want to be self-reliant. It’s certainly helped the last couple of days - I haven’t really had an appetite since -”

He stopped, looking abruptly bereft. She reached a hand out under the table and he squeezed it, attempting to blink back tears. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to - I just keep thinking about it out of nowhere, and it floors me. I wish I could stop it.”

She squeezed his hand, and focused on the contact so that she wouldn’t start crying too. “You can’t. But it’ll slow down eventually. Promise.”

He nodded. She took a picture of him eating once their lunch arrived and texted it to her brother.

_He ordered food! :o_

***

The first thing on the schedule for family weekend was a campus tour, so she stood with Yusuke outside of the main student center while they waited for the tour guide to arrive and walk them around the campus which was, again, basically just downtown. She felt glaringly obvious being not only clearly the only international student there, but also the only sibling. Especially since Yusuke wasn’t even her sibling. The tour was fun, though, and it was a relief to see Yusuke light up when they stopped some places, chattering away quietly in Japanese about the way his life here intersected with these buildings.

The studio building where Yusuke did most of his work had an open house, so that was where they went next. If he’d been happy on the tour, he was ecstatic there. She got to see most of the projects he’d done since arriving in America, and spent several minutes ribbing him about the painting he was working on at the moment just to get a rise out of him. It worked. She could always get a rise out of Yusuke.

A student approached them while she was laughing and Yusuke was complaining. To her surprise, he started talking in Japanese. “Who’s this, Yusuke?”

She looked up in surprise, but Yusuke’s expression was pleased. “Simon.” He said. “This is Akira’s - my boyfriend’s younger sister. Futaba, this is Simon - he’s one of my classmates.”

Simon extended a hand, and tentatively, she took it. “Nice to meet you. Yusuke’s told us a lot about you and his other friends back home. But Yusuke, I thought you said you didn’t have anyone coming this weekend?”

Futaba blushed immediately, retracting her hand. Noticing her distress, Yusuke spoke up. “I didn’t, but -”  
“I surprised him.” She interrupted. He exchanged a glance with her, but she kept talking. “I was super jealous when Akira and our dad got to come to orientation and I didn’t.”

“And your dad was okay with that?” 

Futaba decided that Simon asked too many prying questions, so she decided to ask one of her own. “He’s chill. Hey, how do you know Japanese?”

She knew she had hit a nerve, because now Simon was blushing, which was all the information she needed to keep pressing. “Oh, I, uh - I took it for a language in high school. I’m probably not very good at it.”

“No, you’re actually really good at it. Like, surprisingly good. How many years of it have you taken?”

“Four.”

She scowled harder. “Really? Why’d you decide to take so much Japanese?”

“Oh, uh. I watch some Japanese TV, so I thought it might come in handy.”

Her eyes lit up with understanding. “You’re an anime otaku!”

Now Yusuke was blushing too, and Simon looked like he’d rather never have even begun this conversation. “I - well, a little, yeah, but I was also just… I mean I’m interested in the rest of the culture too, Yusuke’s told me a lot about art history, and I’d really like to go visit a temple and I know how to… cook…”

He trailed off, looking like a deer in headlights. She burst out laughing. “So what are your favorite shows?”

Futaba and Yusuke spent the remainder of the late afternoon in Simon’s company, with her and Simon bickering about manga adaptations and Yusuke mocking them half-heartedly. She didn’t mind. Now that she was feeling better herself, she could tell that when he wasn’t being distracted, he was out-of-it, in a painfully familiar way. If arguing about anime helped keep him distracted, if it kept his American friends from noticing something was up until he felt ready to tell them about Madarame, it was worth it.

Time passed quickly, and sooner than she expected they were saying goodbye to Simon and heading to dinner. There was an event happening in the campus banquet hall for parent weekend, but since they hadn’t registered beforehand, Yusuke suggested that they simply go out to a place near his dorm so he could stop in and grab some things before they headed back to the hotel for the night.

Futaba scoffed as they walked up the path. “It’s not really a family weekend if it’s only one day, is it?”

He shrugged. “There’s some events tomorrow, but they’re all being put on by individual departments and the organization is a bit scattered. Besides, you get on a plane tomorrow. I’d rather focus on making that happen on-time than sit around listening to old professors extoll the virtues of traditional figure-drawing techniques. I get rather enough of that already.”

“Wait, that’s all you do in school?”

He shrugged. “I’m exaggerating. But it depends on the professor, honestly.”

She laughed. “Boring. I bet I could do art school, if it’s really that boring.”

He smiled. “I’m sure you could.”

It was about a twenty minute walk from the part of campus they were on to Yusuke’s dorm, which was basically an apartment building downtown that the college had bought. She peeked in when the door opened, but the inside was so messy - almost as bad as her room - that she told him she’d just wait outside while he grabbed what he needed. 

Before she could open up her phone game, it buzzed with a text from Akira.

_Good morning. Are you with Yusuke rn?_

She scowled. She’d kind of been expecting to be fussed over as soon as he woke up - that his first thought was Yusuke, not her, was immediately a red flag.

_yeah why?_

It took an uncharacteristically long time for Akira to respond, during which time she imagined a variety of increasingly creative terrible reasons why her brother might be asking about his boyfriend. Finally, her phone buzzed.

_Tell him from me to call me when he’s ready. I love you both very much._

And, a few seconds later:

_Thank you for going. I hope you’re doing okay. I’m glad you’re there with him._

She was confused, and more than that, concerned. Before she could text anything more back, Yusuke exited his dorm, a drawstring backpack flung over one shoulder. “Shall we?”

He must have noticed that she looked worried, because his tone shifted. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I don’t know. Akira wanted me to ask you to call him? Which, I mean, I figured we were gonna do that anyway.”

“Oh.” He looked relieved. “Well, it’s good to know he’s awake at least. Did you two talk?”

“No, he just texted me.”

Yusuke nodded. “We’ll call him after dinner. I don’t want to get interrupted.”

“Kay. I’ll text him.”

Which she did, as they were heading down the stairs.

_like im glad youre not worrying about me but also what’s going on?_

Before he could reply, Yusuke opened up the doors and they stepped out onto the street corner. A man was standing there with a notepad and a voice recorder, and as soon as he saw them, he walked over.

“Yusuke Kitagawa?” The man was white, presumably American, dressed well. She was, immediately, on alert.

Yusuke reeled back, unpleasantly surprised. “That’s me. Who are you - what do you want?” He stammered in English.

“I’m a reporter with channel 12. I learned this was your dormitory, so I came to find you for an interview. Can I have a few moments of your time?”

“Interview me about what?” Yusuke demanded, increasingly frustrated, as Futaba dove into her phone, desperate for a text back from Akira.

_Madarame’s dead. It’s on the news._

Before she could reattach her jaw, the reporter spoke again. “About the death of Ichiryusai Madarame. He was your teacher, after all - how are you holding up?”

For a second, Yusuke looked white as a sheet - the next second, he looked furious. “I’m perfectly fine, thank you. How do you know -”

“The hospital released a statement.” The reporter cocked their head to the side. “I’m sorry - you knew, right?”

“Of course I knew.” Yusuke snapped. “I just didn’t know that it was - public.”

The reporter nodded. “It is now. Can I get a statement? We’re running a story on the website about Madarame’s case in connection with the Phantom Thieves incidents. Some people believe his death was - well, if not caused, exacerbated by the events two years ago. You’ve never made your thoughts about the Phantom Thieves public - if not now, when?”

Futaba wanted, desperately, to say something - to tell the reporter how dare you, tell them it was none of their business, rescue Yusuke from having to tell them himself when he was clearly in no shape to. But she didn’t. She was paralyzed.

After what felt like an eternity, Yusuke spoke.

“Fine. Here’s a statement. Ichiryusai Madarame was my teacher and my caretaker. He also made my life a living hell. If the Phantom Thieves are real, if they’re alive, then I owe them nothing but gratitude. They saved his soul and quite likely my life, and I will never be able to thank them enough. If dying in captivity is the price he paid for becoming a reformed man, then at least he died repentant. Better that than a long life built on the backs of children. Something I don’t expect you to understand, as preying on the vulnerable seems a significant aspect of your own bread and butter. Is that enough of a statement for you?”

The reporter was speechless. Futaba was speechless. She felt Yusuke thread his fingers through hers, and she took his hand. “Let’s go.”

They went. They didn’t speak for the entire walk back to the hotel. Futaba watched as he walked, as the anger drained from him and his frame collapsed from pride to grief. As soon as the door to their room shut behind them, he buckled.

She caught him, and Yusuke was so much larger than her but she didn’t let go, holding up his weight while he took full, heaving sobs into her shoulder. She patted his shoulder and repeated “It’s okay” and minutes passed. His breathing slowed. She managed to haul him, eventually, into one of the beds, and he was out like a light within minutes.

Then she shut herself in the bathroom so the noise wouldn’t wake him, and she called Akira.

He picked up after a couple of rings. He looked tired.

“Hey, Nii-san.” She smiled weakly.

He smiled back, faking it a little better. “Hi. Are you okay?”

“Honestly, yeah? I, um.” She paused, biting her tongue as she searched for the words. “Yusuke’s asleep. Sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be sorry. I’m glad he’s getting some rest. Is he…”

“Okay?” She chuckled. “I don’t know. Probably not. He was going to tell you, you know.” The look of pain that flashed over her brother’s face was intense enough that she winced. “Sorry.”

“Please stop saying that.”

She nodded, but didn’t say anything more. It was a second before he spoke again.

“I know. He would have told me when he was ready, and I’m not mad. Tell him that when he wakes up from me?”

“You don’t want to talk to him?”

“Of course I want to talk to him. But he’s already… this is already so out of his control. I don’t want to make that any worse by talking to him if he’s not ready.”

She sighed. “Okay. Do you remember when we met? And I was so messed up because of my mom that I couldn’t talk to anyone, so you literally broke into my room and made me?”

“I’m being stupid, huh?”

“Little bit.”

“Thanks.” He paused. “I’m glad you went to parents’ weekend. But please don’t do that again. The Phantom Thieves work together, right?”

She thought for a second. “I won’t do it again, no. But I didn’t do it for the Phantom Thieves, or you. I love him too - not like you do, obviously, but - I can do things on my own. I’m gonna have to, sometimes. And I came here for Yusuke. And I’m glad that I did, too.”

He smiled, and as always, it blew her away how amazing it felt to see him smile. “You know you’re the best, right?”

“Oh, definitely.”

“Do you want to talk to Dad?”

“Is he there?”

“He’s downstairs. I can go get him.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

She talked with the both of them for about another half hour. Sojiro refused to accept her reimbursement for the hotel cost on the grounds that she was, legally, his dependent for another few months, which was nonsense but she realized pretty quickly there was no winning that argument. She didn’t tell them about Madarame’s will, because that much, she figured, really was Yusuke’s business alone. They were figuring out logistics for getting her from the airport when there was a knock on the bathroom door, and unsurprisingly, Yusuke was there when she opened it. Looking a little better, if slightly dried out.

Sojiro disappeared mysteriously from the frame by the time she looked back to her phone screen. Glancing briefly between Yusuke and Akira, she took her father’s lead.

“I’ll order food. Can I use your phone?”

Yusuke hesitated briefly, and nodded. They exchanged phones and she left the door half-closed as she exited into the living area. She couldn’t hear what the two of them said to each other. But she did hear them talking.

She ordered pizza on Yusuke’s phone, hastily searching the address of their hotel when she realized she didn’t even know what to put in. She stayed focused on the phone, trying not to think about Akira, or Yusuke, or Madarame - or her mother. She knew better than to think that she’d get through this without thinking about her. But for then, she stayed focused, because once that started, it would spiral, and she didn’t have time to spiral right now.

After what felt like an eternity, but was probably closer to fifteen minutes, the door opened and Yusuke entered the living area. He sat down next to her on the bed. She put the phone down and looked up.

“How’d it go?”

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “Fine. You were right, of course. He understood - he understands everything, after all. Or he said he did. He thinks he does.”

“But he doesn’t?”

Yusuke shook his head, opened his eyes. “No. Not like you do.”

She searched for words. “Did you mean what you said?”

“About what?”

“About the Phantom Thieves saving your life.”

He frowned, confused. “Futaba, I know you weren’t there. But you do know what happened.”

“I mean, yeah. I know what happened. But I didn’t know that you thought about it that way.”

A light of understanding dawned on his face, and he nodded slowly. “Right. Well, at the time, I didn’t, really. If you know what happened, then you know I tried to get them to leave. And even after - I knew what they were worried about, and I appreciated why, but I was convinced they were exaggerating. But now… I think they may have been right. It would have gotten bad - or worse, I should say. Maybe not that month, maybe not even that year, but - if they hadn’t been there, I don’t know what I would have done. I truly don’t. Where I’d be now.” He sighed quietly, looking at the ceiling. “Not here, certainly.”

Futaba took his hand, looking him in the eye. “That’s another thing we have in common, then.”

He smiled, reaching over to ruffle her hair with the hand she wasn’t holding. She let him, without pretending that she didn’t want him to.

“That’s true.”

***

She landed in the Tokyo airport at 2 AM local time. Akira and Sojiro were both waiting at the airport. They had coffee. It was black.

Her brother drove the car so that Sojiro could spend the ride back fussing. She was too tired to do much more than put up with it while he quizzed her on what had happened, and what she’d done, and whether she’d talked to anyone about it, and if she was okay. Akira just drove silently, and she made a mental note to thank him when they were alone.

Eventually, he asked about Yusuke.

She glanced at Akira and shrugged. “He’s okay. I mean, it sucks, but we talked about it. He’s not alone, he’s got friends there and a counselor and stuff. So I think he’ll be alright.”

Akira glanced into the rearview mirror and made eye contact with her. “Will you?”

She wanted to roll her eyes, but she didn’t. She’d been awake for too long not to be sincere. “Now that I’m home. Yeah.”

Sojiro smiled gently. “We can go see her tomorrow. Would you like that?”

She swallowed. Sojiro put an arm around her shoulders, and awkwardly, he hugged her as they drove, and she cried into his arms.

“Yeah. That sounds good.”

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of me feeling kind of guilty that I didn't get to write Futaba into [Take It From Me.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12856188/chapters/29360085) I really enjoyed her and Yusuke's relationship in the game, so hopefully this does it justice. You may notice that Yusuke going to an arts school in America is mentioned at the end of that fic, but I didn't put these together in a series. Since Take It From Me is on the longer side I'm leaving it in its own category, but practically speaking, assume all my Persona 5 fics take place in the same slightly-left-of-canon universe where MC and Yusuke are dating and MC stays in Tokyo with the Sakuras. Yusuke's college is the Rhode Island School of Design, if you were wondering. For no reason other than "it looked impressive when I Googled it.
> 
> Title is from "World Spins Madly On" by the Weepies. Thanks to Thanks to [blooper-boy](blooper-boy.tumblr.com) for beta'ing and thanks to you for reading!


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